


I’m not your mother.

by IAmTheNightman98



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Friendship, Season 8 Spoilers, oath family, romantic sub plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-02-10 10:43:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18658819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IAmTheNightman98/pseuds/IAmTheNightman98
Summary: Three times Podrick accidentally calls Brienne mum.And the one time he does it on purpose.





	I’m not your mother.

1.

Brienne sighs in frustration as she looks down at the young squire, sleeping at her feet. Jaime Lannister had given him to her as his third and final parting gift, but so far he has proven himself to be little more than a burden. She had felt pity for the boy, who couldn’t have been older than his late teens, as she was told that he would not be safe in King’s Landing.

Though she was not a knight and never would be, she had had the knights oath committed to her memory since she was a girl.

In the name of the mother, I charge you to protect the innocent.

So, begrudgingly, she has allowed him to follow her this far.

He can’t ride a horse, or cook, or wield a sword. For all intents and purposes, he is of very little value to her and despite the fact he was told they would ride at first light, he now lies on his bedroll, snoring softly whilst she waits.

“Useless.” Brienne mutters as she kicks the ground beside him, sending a shower of dirt and dust over his body, but he doesn’t stir.

“Wake up.” She snaps, loudly this time, but still nothing. “Podrick!” She yells, then kicks his shin. It’s nowhere near as powerful as it could be, but she’s sure it will leave a nasty bruise.

Instead of awaking with a start as Brienne expects, Podrick shuffles, stretches, then yawns softly. He brings his hands up to rub the dirt from his eyes and she feels a slight pang of guilt, which is quickly replaced by annoyance once more.

“Mum?” He mumbles sleepily as he opens his eyes.

Brienne’s face burns red with a combination of embarrassment and annoyance. Gods, this boy must be young to still recall being woken by his mother. Or maybe the fact that she is over ten years older than him makes him see her as a motherly authority. Either way, it is unacceptable. Brienne possesses none of the qualities of a mother and she doesn’t wish to be likened to one in any way.

Suddenly, the squire’s eyes snap open as he realises his surroundings. “M-milady.” He stutters, scrambling to his feet.

He looks more embarrassed than she knows she does, so she decides to pretend that she hadn’t heard the first part. “I’m not a lady.” She says beneath her breath as she glares at him. “Get up.”

He nods his head quickly. “Apologies milady, it won’t happen again.” He tells her, and she doesn’t know if he’s talking about him oversleeping or the… other thing.

2.

After months of sleeping outdoors, being underfed and trudging through the gruesome landscape of King’s Landing in the wind and rain, the inevitable happens. Podrick gets sick.

She can tell he tries to hide it at first, pretending that his coughs are from something tickling his throat, or that his seventeenth sniffle in an hour is just a coincidence, but eventually he gets worse. His walking pace slows significantly and he develops large dar, heavy bags under his eyes. Once or twice, she hears him throwing up into a nearby bush when he must think she’s still sleeping.

Brienne first reaction is annoyance. Not only does she have the responsibility of looking after an incompetent squire, she now has to contend with the fact that he’s unwell. It will slow them down significantly. And if she gets sick too, there will be hell to pay.

She reaches breaking point one evening when they sit side by side next to the campfire and she watches him barely touching his food.

“Eat.” She grumbles harshly.

He looks up at her, his eyes heavy with pain and discomfort. “I’m not hungry, milady.” He says, his voice hoarse and scratchy.

She puffs a sharp burst of air from her nose and glares at him. “I didn’t ask if you were hungry. I told you to eat.”

The last thing she wants is her squire to starve to death and add to her ever growing list of failures. She didn’t allow him to trail behind her for hundreds of miles away from the threat he faced in King’s Landing, just to watch him die in a ditch in the middle of nowhere.

He shakes his head softly and runs a trembling hand over his face then through his hair. His skin is grey and his forehead is slick with sweat. She suddenly feels awful for letting his condition worsen to this extent. “This isn’t up for debate, Pod.” She says, her tone much softer than before.

His eyes snap up to her sharply and he glares at her with a look so intense she is taken aback. “Will you just drop it? You don’t care. You’re not my mother. So just fuck off. “ He spits through gritted teeth. He’s never so much as looked at her the wrong way before now, so she knows his fever must be getting to him

_“Where would I go?”_

_“Why should I care? I’m not your mother.”_

Hearing her own words echoed back to her, the words she’d said to him after her fight with the Hound, is a jarring reminder of how cruel she had been. She suddenly feels a wave of shame crash over her. How could she have treated him so poorly that he was unable to tell her how sick he truly was?

If he were to die, it would be her fault.

Tears fill her eyes but she blinks them away and inhales sharply. “I’m sorry for what I said to you.” She whispers after a few moments.

He looks up at her. “I’m sorry I told you to fuck off.” He says with an awkward smile, causing her to chuckle softly.

“Please eat something.” She says sincerely and sighs in relief when he nods his head.

Later that night, she finds herself unable to sleep as her mind is overcome with worry. She noticed that Podrick is shivering violently in as he sleeps and since then, she has been unable to look away. Curled up into himself on his bedroll, he looks so small and so young and she’s inexplicably terrified that something will happen to him.

Deciding that sleep was unlikely to come any time soon, she gets up from the ground and begins to light a small fire beside Podrick, in an effort to keep him warm. Then, she takes her bedroll and drapes the material awkwardly over him, to shield him from the wind.

She stays awake for the rest of the night, shivering by the fire and watching the steady rise and fall of his chest, praying to the Mother that he survives.

The following night she insists that they stay at an inn, so that Podrick can have a hot meal and recover. He tries to insist that she doesn’t need to take them out of their way and waste money just for him, but she won’t hear it.

“Thanks mum.” He says, nudging her playfully with his elbow as they’re bridling their horses outside the inns gates.

3.

“Lady Brienne, do you have a moment?” She hears Ser Jaime’s voice from over her shoulder as she watches her men and women training on the frozen ground outside of Winterfell.

She had excused herself from his company less than one hour previously, as he had told her that he wished to serve under her command during the battle. It had made her feel a crushing wave of emotions that she isn’t ready to deal with, given the fact that they are on the eve of war, so she’d been unable to stand under his gaze any longer.

And now, he is back. She has seen him trailing around after her since his arrival, looking at her from afar and pretending it a coincidence that he is always within her general vicinity, but she doesn’t blame him. Aside from his brother, she presumes that she is the only person he call a friend in Winterfell, and it isn’t his fault that she is a grown woman who is incapable of understanding or expressing her emotions.

So, she turns around to face him, trying not to sigh as she does. “What is it, Ser Jaime?”

“I just wanted to tell you that you really have done a great job with Podrick.” He stammers awkwardly.

She exhales sharply in frustration. They don’t have time for this. “Yes, he’s a perfectly adequate fighter, you’ve already-” She says in exasperation, but he cuts her off.

“No, no. I don’t mean his fighting.” Jaime clarifies. “When he left King’s Landing, he was nothing more than a boy who followed around whichever lord he was pledged to.” He goes on, and Brienne feels a twist of an indescribable emotion at Jaime’s description as it sounds so much like how she was, before she’d met Jaime. “Now, he’s his own man. You’ve done an excellent job.”

Brienne feels another twinge of annoyance, “I did next to nothing.” She says curtly.

Jaime pauses for a moment, looking as though he were carefully considering what to say next. “He thinks of you as a mother, you know.” He tells her sincerely and there’s that pang of emotions in her gut once more.

Emotions that she doesn’t quite know how to comprehend.

“How would you know?” She snaps.

“Because he told me.” Jaime fires back quickly.

Brienne stares at Jaime pointedly, waiting for him to elaborate.

“After he saw us watching him earlier, he found me in the keep and asked me what my um… intentions are.” Jaime says awkwardly. “I told him that I wish to fight for you and then asked him why he cared. He said you are his mother and your wellbeing matters to him. The poor lad turned as red as a tomato and fumbled over his words trying to correct himself to say you are hs ‘mentor’, but I understood his meaning.”

Intentions? What did he mean by that? What are Jaime’s intentions anyways? The idea that Jaime may have any kind of intention at all was confusing enough. Then there was his suggestion that Podrick called her his mother. It is an honour that she did not deserve. She will never be fit to be a mother and she will certainly never claim to have had any influence over the way Podrick has grown.

She feels a lump in her throat and tears rush to her eyes before she can stop them. “I’m sure he misspoke.” She says, tightening her jaw and looking off to the distance.

Jaime looks at her sympathetically in a way that makes her want to both punch him in the throat and throw herself into his arms at the same time. Neither speak for a moment, until she swallows and turns her eyes back to his.

“Ser Jaime…” She starts, unsure of herself. “Promise me that, when the time comes, you’ll look out for him.” She says softly and he nods his head.

“Of course I will. “

“Promise me that if it comes to it, you will protect his life over mine.” She adds, followed by a deep breath.

Jaime’s eyes go wide with fear, then soft with an emotion that she cannot decipher. “Brienne…” He says quietly, formalities forgotten. “I don’t think I can make that promise when I--”

“Don’t say it.” She cuts him off quickly, then clenches her jaw and squeezes her eyes shut. When she opens them again he’s staring at her, breathing heavily. “I know.” She whispers. “I do too.”

I want to protect you, too. I care about you, too. I love you, too.

“Just please promise me, Jaime. It’s him over me.”

Jaime shakes his head. “I am a man of my word, so I can’t make a promise to you that I don’t intend to keep. But I swear to you that I will watch over him during the battle.” He inhales deeply before continuing with a trembling voice. “And I don’t expect you to make the choice between me and him. Pick him every time.”

Brienne squeezes her eyes tightly shut, desperately trying to push away that image. When it comes to risking her own life for others, the answer is simple, but she cannot bear to think of having to choose between two people she loves. She genuinely cannot foresee being able to make that decision.

She wants so badly to cry. For Jaime to hold her and promise her that it will all be okay, but they’re in the middle of the training yard surrounded by people who need to look to her for strength. She needs to keep her composure.

She opens her eyes and Jaime’s hand is curled tightly around the armour that covers her bicep. “Let’s hope it doesn't come to that.” She says quietly.

4.

The dead fall in one unified motion. The noise ends. The struggle ceases. She can hear her heartbeat in her ears and she slumps back against the wall, struggling to catch her breath.

They had been fighting for hours on end and the first hints of the morning sun were peeking over the horizon. She gazed over the piles upon piles of bodies that covered Winterfell, unable to believe that it was over.

She hears a laboured cough from beside her and sees Jaime pressed up against the wall. Throughout the battle she had been aware of his constant presence beside her. They protected each other all night long. As soon as she was able to breathe, she would tell him how she feels about him. No more false pretenses, no more disguised declarations of love, just the truth.

They’d somehow, against all the fucking odds, been saved from death on this night. She’d never take time for granted again.

Jaime nods solemnly at her, seemingly understanding everything she was trying to convey with her eyes.

She was then struck with another thought that took the air from her lungs. “Podrick..” She stammers. “Did he-”

Jaime moves aside slightly and there beside him she sees Podrick with his back against the wall and his hands on his knees with his eyes tightly shut. She chokes out a noise that is somewhere between a laugh and a sob and feels hot, wet tears streaming down her face. “Oh, Pod.” She sighs softly.

His eyes snap to meet hers in an instant. His face is covered with blood and dirt and she can see that he’s been crying. “Mum.” He chokes out and before she realises what’s happening, he’s hurling himself towards her. He throws his arms around her middle so hard it almost winds her then, tentatively, she wraps her arms protectively around him too.

He called her mum. It wasn’t an accident, or a joke. He didn’t mispeak. All these years of thinking he wanted to be her squire, not realising that what he really wanted was a mother. She’d learned years ago that his own mother had abandoned him after the death of his father, when he was just four years old. Throughout their years together he’d been using her as the parent he’d never had and finally, she is more than willing to oblige.

She looks up at Jaime, who looks as though he is resisting the urge to cry too, then reaches out and grabs his hand. She pulls him into the awkward embrace with her and Podrick then wraps her arms around the both of them. Their armour clashes together violently, and to the outside world they may simply look like soldiers comforting one another after the battle, but she knows the truth.

They had all cheated death tonight.

They are an unlikely set of companions, each one of them with complex histories and trauma they might never shake, but from tonight until their last night, they will be a family.

**Author's Note:**

> I simply cannot get enough of Oath Family. 
> 
> A family that slays together, stays together.


End file.
